Chris Redfield ٭

He walks with quick strides, dodging others and, at times, knocking them aside. His jaw is clenched tight with anger, and his gaze is darkened, as if he wanted to kill someone right then and there.

He slams the office door shut and clutches his head with his hands, filled with frustration. He strides toward his desk and sinks into his black leather chair. He lights one of his cigarettes and begins to calm down as the tobacco burns away.

He had gotten into an argument with one of his agents and had ended up exploding at him.

He decides then to immerse himself in the pile of papers he has to review and sign, with the intention of doing nothing else for the rest of the day.

There is a recurring thought in his mind: he is fed up with working at the BSAA. It wears him down physically and emotionally, which has greatly deteriorated his current well-being.